Monday, June 28, 2004

So I re-read The Love Song of Alfrend J. Prufrock, and it's got me really thing about the nature of taking control of one's own life. More specifically why on one hand I'm desperate to take some hold over the reins of the my life and on the other I'm too listless to attempt it. Is there some comfort in a life more ordinary?

I have this rotting feeling that my life is living me rather than the other way around. I've allowed expectation of obligation to dictate every action in my life.

What would they say if I took the money I had left over and ran away with it? If I stopped waiting for the right time and just did it?

I am Alfred J. Prufrock, only I am 23 yet I feel 65.

Friday, June 11, 2004

So, I found out what happened to the guy who fell. He jumped. Turns out he was an anesthesiologist in the city who had be charged with having kiddie porn. It's odd because I remember surfing the web after he jumped to see if anything had been written about it. But I found an article about a London doctor and his kiddie porn charges and how they were sure to mention that he was never left alone with underage patients before hand. I remembered thinking at the time, what does that have to do with anything? I have pictures of naked ppl on my computer it doesn't mean I run around fondelling adults. Anyway, I've always thought that people who wanted to see naked kids were sick in the head, pedophiles, and desereved to be tortured. But now that I've seen this man jump to his death, I have to wonder, was he really as vile as I assumed someone like that would be? This man was successful, with a girlfriend, and obviously he was troubled.

I feel for the guy because, who knows why those pictures were on his computer? Regardless, instead of getting the doctor some help, the media paints a picture of a pervert, making sure to let the public know that he was never touching kids in the hospital. He was a man of deep pride, the paper said after his death. So proud he couldn't live with this shame. SHAME, he knew it was wrong. He wasn't convinced he was just trying to love children. He was so ahsamed he jumped of his balcony.

I know there's no way to see child pornography in a decent light, because there isn't one. What he did was wrong. But the news had to make it a spectacle. Did this man need help? Definitely. Did this man need to be punished? Probably. Did this man need to be embarassed? I'm not sure. But if pride drove him to suicide, then we share some resonsibilty for assuming he was a predator of children.

I feel the for the guy in some weird sense. Without excusing what he did, he's been victemized by an ignorant society that seeks to sensationalize every day life. By personalizing what should be objective, we're made to feel a certain way giving no mind to what this man has accomplished or who he was other than the fact he had some pictures of children.

We all do things we don't want anyone else to know about because of shame, because society says it's wrong, or because it's just bad by any earthly standards. Personally I don't know how I would be able to go on living if the world knew my dirty little secrets, or if I was labeled a pervert, or if everything in my life I have accomplished in my life is made moot by an act of stupidity. And yet, I still will probably sit in judgement of those who I see on the news.

This world lacks understanding. And no one understands that.

Sunday, June 06, 2004

The past won’t stop calling me
Back to a simpler time
When tomorrow was an easier today
A place that was more ideal
When I was more naïve

The past is banging at my door
Trying to wake me from this dream
Selling unlimited potential
A time before we admitted we were trashy
Recalling the security that hypocrisy provided

The past is climbing through my window
But I am standing in quicksand
Every struggle for salvation pulls me further down
Toward a world beyond our comprehension
But of our own making

The future is visible
We’ve paved the way to Heaven
But Hell found it’s way instead
I see now with open eyes
Where the dream has taken us

The future will be arriving shortly
So hold on tight
It’s too late for hypocrisy
Our dream will be realized
Our ideals will be lost

The past is reaching out her delicate hand
But the future has me in his firm arms
I’ve lost all control
Yesterday is gone
Tomorrow is here

Saturday, June 05, 2004

So Steve is gone until tomorrow night. I woke up this morning and I was happy that I had the place to myself. It started off a good day. The sun was shining, the streets were quiet below, I was feeling well. I made myself a nice breakfast then settled myself on the balcony in the morning sun and started reading a book I've long neglected. It was nice in the sun, and my legs are still feeling a bit burnt even 12 hours later. At one point I shifted my chair to the oposite side the balcony because I love the view of the apartment building my balcony overlooks. I was really enjoying myself, considering I had never spent any extended time on the balcony in the nine months I've lived here.

I took a break from reading, to use the washroom, to fill up my glass, to give my legs a break from the sun. For some reason I decided to make Jello. That's when I heard it. The police have been around here a lot lately. There was that late night stop out side my window, and then there was that terrible accident yesterday. My curious mind heard the sound and had to go look. I checked toward the construction site first expecting another accident but there was nothing there. I know I heard the police, and it sounded so close, still I didn't see anything. As I started to walk away from the window I glanced to my left toward the apartment building that I love. I was shocked. Three police cars, three ambulances, and the loud siren of a fire truck fast approaching. What was going on? I guess my first inclination was to assume it was a robbery. By why the ambulance? Why the fire truck?

And then I saw it...

A body lying still on the pavement below. Small crowd of people stood around waiting for the paramedics to jump into action. He or she, looked natural to me, lying in what looked to be green scrubs. I couldn't see any blood, the body didn't look mangled, yet I knew without a doubt that he had fallen. People fron their balconys looked directly down onto the sceen unfolding below. I saw the paramedics aggressively performing chest compressions as he was placed onto the backboard, the firemen worked quickly to tape off the area. It was horrifying. Never something I imagined to see. I looked up to see where he had fallen from, and instantly I knew it was the the apartment on the right, on the 13th floor. It was the only sliding door screen left partially open.

With in minutes the ambulance drove off, as did the firetruck. I watched at forensics arrived and started taking pictures. I watched a people came to move their cars out from the taped off area, and I saw the officer on teh balcony of the apartment I had already suspected. I watched on and off until the police tape came down, until all the police cars had left. I still look now after nightfall at the apartment and see a small light on, wondering. I can't stop wondering.

A million things are going through my head. Why was I out on the balcony today? Of all days to start going out there? Why today? And what possessed me to go inside? Why happend to this guy? Did he fall? Did he jump? Was it even a guy? Did he live alone? Surely he couldn't have survived, 13 floors is a long way to fall. Have I seen him before? Had I not left the balcony maybe he would have been too embarassed to jump?

This sceen, these thoughts, they have not left me today. I started off the day being glad that I was alone, and now the only thing I want is for Steve to hug me.

Ronald Reagan died today. His death is important, it is all over the news, and it's a constant reminder of what happed just a few hundred feet away from me. I'm finding myself in random fits of crying throughout the day. I feel like life is so much suffering. I can't understand it. I can't understand anything. This day have been long; it has be surreal. I'm afraid to sleep tonight, I fear what I may dream. I don't want to wake up to know that I am alone here tonight. And I don't want that man or woman to feel scared, or his loved ones to feel lonely. I want to believe that he survived, stranger things have happened.

As I looked out at his balcony, I saw the bike on his balcony, I saw the fridge cart. I thought of the empty apartment, and was filled with the greatest sense abandonment. To know these things that all had purpose to this man and this man alone could now be obsolete. With no one to value them. And I wonder, is that how this man felt? Is that what drove him to jump? Or did he even jump? Maybe he tripped on that fridge cart.

I hope this person's soul is confortable right now. His life passed with mine today, for whatever reason, but now I will carry that moment in time with me for me. Though I may not have ever met him (or her) I can't help but realize how fleeting life is. One morning you wake up and it's sunny, and quiet, and you think everything is going to be "perfect" and then in the time it takes to decide you want Jello, it's gone.

May you not be lonely or frightened now, where ever you are.